A change of status
by bublinka
Summary: What if Scooter needed more time for his repairments? Hyperion employees had to stsy at Felix's with their friends.
1. Chapter 1

Fiona closed the door and leaned on it, so tired. Her sister and those two Hyperions were also getting themselves comfortable in what little space Felix's place could offer. Fiona frowned seeing that Rhys had already occupied the couch and was definitely going to lie down.

"So, now we have to wait while Scooter gets our ride ready," she stated. "Sash, how are our supplies?"

Sasha smirked at her. "We have enough grenades, bullets and money. No so much food or water, though." Scooter was going to take a couple of days more at the fastest, and they needed something more substantial than sandwiches.

"All right. We shall contact that trader, Felix's acquaintance. We must keep low profile, so Loader Bot is not an option. I doubt Kroger and Finch would be a problem for now. That woman, on the other hand... Two of us must go buy food, it's too dangerous to go alone." Fiona suggested, sitting down on a chair. She glanced at the others expectantly.

"Okay, Vaughn and me will wait for you here," Rhys replied with a smile. It was nice to be even in that house comparing to hot Pandoran desert.

Sasha sprang to her feet, agitated. "No way! I say, one of us goes and one of them! We can't trust those Hyperions with our home!"

Her sister nodded. "You're right. We'll draw straws to decide who goes."

And thus, Fiona found herself treading carefully along the streets of Hollow Point, followed by the displeased Hyperion man, who had already planned to spend the day in a horizontal position. He was silent nevertheless, for it was one of the things they'd agreed upon the departure. The other condition stated that Fiona buy pizza. Rhys found the pact not at all unfair.

Suddenly, Fiona stopped, raising a hand. He noticed it also - the movement on the roofs. It seemed the nutcase warrior woman was back.

"Quick, to the alley on your right!" Fiona whispered forcefully, and they ducked behind some big case looking and smelling like a dumpster. They sat there holding their breath, staying alert, watching each other tensely. After several minutes which seemed an eternity to them the noise from above dissipated. Finally letting themselves to breathe fully, the two of them relaxed their muscles leaning on the brick wall of some abandoned building.

In the darker end of the alley some dark figure stirred. Noticing it, Rhys hurried to scan the movement with his ECHO eye.

"Just a homeless man." He whispered to Fiona, sounding relieved.

"Still, let's get out before he notices us." Fiona replied worriedly. On Pandora, in that city, no witness was welcome.

Sadly, they never managed that.

"Why, don't I know you, lady?" Came a low, cracked voice. The man came nearer, and they could see him in the weak street light. He was short, dirty and thin, but his clothes, hanging around his sorry figure, implied that once he was fatter and wealthier.

Rhys glanced at Fiona, trying to figure out their next step. Her widely opened eyes and shocked expression suggested that she recognized that man. So Rhys decided to keep himself out of the deal.

"Yes, look at me, that is your doing, you lying scum!" The homeless stranger continued, his tone, however, much less agressive than his words. "You and your fake Atlas stuff brought me down, ruined my artefact selling business. And I paid you real money!" He pointed his finger at Fiona, almost touching her nose. She was still as if stunned by a Hypetion baton.

"I see you've got yourself into trouble, serves you right, lady! I could sell you out, but I won't. Listen to me, and I will teach you what I learned on these streets. It is not only Hyperion who ruined this planet, but thieves like you. Everything you want is to rob Pandora and be off with the money. This way, Pandora will never recover. Think about it." And than the man left, walking slowly and muttering something quietly.

"What was that?" Rhys asked when he noticed Fiona coming back to life, turning her head around and checking her gun.

"An old con," she answered somewhat unwillingly. She seemed to be upset and ashamed by the encounter.

"Huh. So, how does it feel to be blamed for just trying to get on with your life?" Rhys wondered, watching her closely. It was rare to see Fiona speechless, even rarer to see her in shame.

His question was not expected by the con artist. She flung her gaze to his face. She did feel the accusations were not fully justified. She was not to blame for trying to earn her money, to get a better life for Sasha and herself. Then her thoughts switched to that Hyperion who asked the question. It seemed he had a good measure of the unjust blaming himself. Fiona realised she had made him answer for the whole corporation more than once. Maybe, she reasoned, he was not as bad as she saw him. They were together in that mess, both guilty and innocent.

Rhys never expected her to answer. He returned his gaze to the sky and added in amused tone: "Guess, I'm not the only bad guy here."

"Yep, I'm Pandoran scum." Came the dull reply.

Rhys let out a short laugh.

"I'm Hyperion jackass, nice to meet you." He stood up, stretching out his robotic hand to help her up.

Fiona couldn't help smiling back. He was cheering her up, as if they were indeed friends. But before her smile could get bigger than almost unnoticeable, Fiona decided to keep things professional. Their task was nowhere near completion.

"It's clear, let's head out," she called and gestured him to follow.

Rhys didn't move. He needed to clear things up.

"Now, let me get it straight, are we friends or not?" He asked, trying to sound matter-of-factly.

"Never said we were," Fiona said not even turning her head to him.

"But you did!" He objected. "At Scooter's."

Fiona came back to face him. He was being impossible once more, pulling on her words, playing some games of his own.

She measured his with the displeased eyes. "Why do you ask then?"

Rhys arched an eyebrow, as if her question was absolutely silly to ask.

"Words are wind, as they say. But when I scanned you a moment ago, your hostility status changed." He ended his phrase with a smirk on his lips.

"My - what?!"

"Hostility status. It is a part of the ECHO eye readings." Rhys explained now fully grinning.

Fiona huffed in exasperation. "You're making fun of me!"

He raised his hands in the air. "No, not at all!"

Fiona frowned thoughtfully. Then she asked, glaring at him, challenge declared: "Scan me. What does it say now?"

The blue eye bore into her.

"It says - alarm, alarm, she's going to punch you in the face!" Rhys stuttered in a feign scared voice.

Fiona almost rolled her eyes. What a childish game! Then she crossed her hands in front of her and stated: "For an imaginary device, it's giving highly accurate readings. You'd better trust them."

"It still says you're a friend." Rhys lifted his eyebrows as if surprised by his own words.

Fiona finally smiled at him. He was too adorable in that stuid nonsense talk to be angry at him.

"Okay. We're friends. As long as you do not scan me." Fiona added hurriedly, still a bit unsure whether he was telling the truth about that 'status' changes.

Rhys opened his mouth to answer her, but Fiona was quicker one more time.

"...and as long as you keep your mouth shut. Let's go."

Rhys widened his eyes at her, not ready to believe she was treating him like some pet of hers again. Finally he followed her, keeping some distance that allowed him to whisper to himself: "No wonder you don't have any friends."


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, it's my turn to drive!" Sasha's voice cut the air, and Rhys shuddered from his half-slumber.

"O-okay." He agreed, straightening his numb legs and crawling from the driver's seat. They were all tired, driving restlessly to Old Haven. It was not the physical tiredness, as the van was restored to be very comfortable. But the monotonous shifts of driving, the endless desert around, and the thoughts about Vallory and mysterious assasin woman still following them somewhere were enough to quench any optimistic notions.

And Jack, of course, Rhys thought bitterly as he slowly walked his way to the couch. He was turning crazy, and looking even more crazy to his friend. Friends, plural, as Rhys corrected himself with a faint smile. Fiona did acknowledge that before witnesses. That was not a small gain, he considered. Perhaps, there was still some hope left for the happy ending of their unimaginable adventure.

Rhys lay down, silently cursing Scooter for making such short sleeping places. Everything inside the van was very compact, the kitchen squeezed in the corner just beside the bunk beds. Propping up his pillow, Rhys gained access to the view of it. Fiona was cooking, he noted. He should have heard her moving around on his way there, but he was probably too deep in thought to do that. It was a merry, comforting sight, so Rhys decided to watch her for a while until the sleep would claim him.

She was the only one of them who could actually do it. She was now peeling potatos and putting them into a big pot to lie there in the water. She was really fast with her knife and a gentle 'plop!' sound of a drowning vegetable reached Rhys' ears about every ten seconds. Rhys sighed wistfully. Who could imagine this small slender woman in an apron, humming a tune to herself, making a supper, to be a gun-wielding con artist? She did not look dangerous at all.

Rhys suddenly realized he would miss it, all of it, once they are done...or gone. No, not in the second case, he corrected himself. But still, it was the closest thing to family he had in almost a decade, since he got that small lonely apartment on Helios. He was never keen on cooking. And he was not used to having so much people around him all day long. But he could get used to it, he really could.

"You know I can see your idiotic smile in a mirror, right?" Fiona ruined the perfect harmony, barely constraining the laughter. She had probably watched him for a good while now. The kitchen sink was also a washing basin, damn that narrow space, and had a mirror over it.

"Move your lazy ass over here and help me, since you're not sleeping." She added. "Wash those potatoes, rub them thoroughly with your fingers."

Who was he to not obey her orders? Rhys got up and came up to her, running a hand through his hair disheveled from lying on the bed. He looked inside the pot and put in his both hands hesitantly. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Wait, is that robot thing of yours waterproof?!" Fiona asked in an alarmed voice.

"Of course it is." Rhys replied calmly, smirking at her sudden panic. "How do you think I would take the shower otherwise?" He shrugged his shoulders and took one potato in each hand. It felt really weird, like pieces of very sturdy soap.

"I do not think about you taking the shower!" Fiona fumed indignantly. "Oh my god...now I do." She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head violently, as if trying to remove the image from her brain.

Rhys pursed his lips, taking out his hands out of the pot and crossing the arms on his chest. "Well, I don't see anything wrong with me taking the shower, which, in fact, I miss much on this godforsaken ride. All this sweating..."

"Drop it already, will you?" Fiona interrupted him, trying to sound angry. But the way her cheeks reddened and the way she swiped the pot from under his nose and began cutting the vegetables in pieces in her hand energetically hinted her discomfort with the discussed topic. Rhys grinned. Who could blame her, she was not made of stone, he mused.

He followed her movements with his eyes, awed by her skill: she managed to cut the potato holding it with the same hand as the knife, never cutting herself. She was concentrated, looking only on her hands, all worked up at first, but slowly calming down.

"So," she began casually, "what did you eat then if you don't cook?"

How did she know he didn't-...nah, it was too obvious, Rhys reasoned.

"Well, I like pizza. A lot." He answered softly, glad to see her looking back at him again. She was much prettier without that hat.

Fiona laughed, the amusement glittering in her eyes.

"I worked in a pizza restaurant as a teenager. I know how to make pizza." She teased.

What?! Rhys felt the ground shatter under his feet, as he clutched the kitchen table to steady himself. His breathing became ragged, coming out of his mouth. He stared at the woman, no the ANGEL in front of him.

He momentarily imagined her making a dough, spreading it on the kitchen table in his Helios apartment, bringing the hot crusty pieces of heaven under melted cheese to his, no, their bed, letting him bite it from her hand till he could kiss her fingers, speaking Italian to compliment her talent...

"Mmmm...mmm.." Was what he said in reality, staring with wide eyes at Fiona.

"Huh? Is that what your favourite pizza type is called?" Fiona frowned quizzically.

"No, it's called... Meat Feast ." He flushed a bit, blinking his imaginary Fiona away.

"Pandoran speciality, well. Once we're done with that Vault, I'll make you one." She promised.

If he could widen his eyes further, he would.

"Wait, c-can you repeat that?" He turned on his eye to record the video proof. "I need to record it, for the case you reconsider that."

Fiona pointed a finger at him: "Turn off that thing! I warned you about scanning me! Turn it off-" she grabbed the knife and Rhys finally switched off the cybernetics.

"Okay, okay, no need to get violent." He smiled at her, knowing that the video was still recorded.

He watched it many times after that, because it was at that moment that he realized he loved her.


End file.
